


Flower Crowns and a Love Song

by O_Drakon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, F/F, Femslash February, Flower Crowns, Fluff, no beta we die like arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:16:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29656047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/O_Drakon/pseuds/O_Drakon
Summary: A relaxing day, and a realisation or two.
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16
Collections: Merlin Bingo





	Flower Crowns and a Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> This is set either very early in canon or before canon. The bingo prompt filled for this fic was "Guinevere", and I combined the prompt with Femslash February. I hope a few people like it c:

Gwen hums happily to herself as she plucks another flower, a soft blue thing with toothed leaves, gently breaking the stem. She silently offers a little apology to the plant, and thanks, and well-wishes for it to grow back strong and healthy with time.

"What song is that, Gwen dear? It sounds familiar somehow." The darkness under Morgana's eyes is more present than usual, stark in the high sunlight, but her smile is real enough.

"It's nothing, my Lady," Gwen deflects. "What do you think of this one," she asks, presenting the flower for Morgana's inspection, "for the crown?" Morgana decides to leave Gwen's secrets be. She looks at the flower, then into Gwen's lovely warm eyes, and smiles.

"I think it's beautiful," Morgana says deliberately, and Gwen averts her eyes, though she seems pleased.

Morgana pats the empty space next to her on the richly embroidered blanket. "Come, sit back down. You work hard enough as is, you should rest." (Neither acknowledges that they're both resting anyway, today; Gaius had that morning suggested that some fresh air might do Morgana's anxieties a world of good. Gwen and Morgana have been out for a few hours now, even had a small picnic, and the outdoors _is_ rather soothing.)

Gwen seats herself, careful not to disturb the blanket too much, and takes a moment to appreciate the rolling expanse of green fields and wildflowers before her. When she breathes in, she can faintly smell bluebells from amongst the nearby strand of silver birch trees, as well as one of Morgana's preferred perfumes. The sky is bright and mostly clear but for a few wonderfully fluffy clouds, slowly drifting, and Gwen can hear blackbirds calling. A light breeze occasionally ruffles the thick grass around her.

Gwen's fingers make quick work of weaving the stem into the now-complete circlet of flowers. It's an intricate, pretty thing, with small blossoms of white clover and lady's smock and speedwell set amongst vivid greenery. When Gwen turns to proudly offer it to Morgana, her heart briefly beats too hard. Morgana has been watching her, eyes wide and a dusting of pink high on her cheeks. 

Before Gwen can figure out what to say, or if she should comment on this at all, Morgana beams, and the strange moment breaks. "Gwen, it's lovely! Thank you."

"May I?" Gwen asks. Morgana nods, and Gwen carefully reaches over to settle the flower crown on Morgana's hair. "Now we match," Morgana proclaims, nodding decisively.

"Indeed, my Lady." Gwen smiles, admiring the way the crown sits well on Morgana's dark waves. Her own flower crown has buttercups in place of speedwell blossoms, but it's equally lovely on her.

They decide to lie back and watch the clouds pass by. ("Oh, that one looks like a bear!") It's nice enough, but Gwen soon starts to feel restless. Fortunately for Gwen, Morgana soon seems to feel much the same.

"Gwen dear?" she asks, turning her head. Gwen does the same; they're almost nose-to-nose. They're on their backs next to each other, arms and shoulders solid and reassuring where they touch, and it's certainly not protocol but it doesn't feel wrong in the slightest. "Would you show me how to make one of those flower crowns?"

*

"No, no," Gwen corrects patiently, "like this." She demonstrates again with her own bundle of thin birch twigs, "Grasp the twigs _here,_ and bend them to about _there._ Then use the long grass as twine to tie it together, see?" Morgana frowns in concentration, but eventually succeeds in the task, tying off a knot with a flourish. She looks to Gwen (as if for approval) sat across from her close enough that their knees bump, and Gwen is struck once more, as she nods in proud acknowledgment, with how... _unusual,_ how much like _friendship,_ their relationship is. Around others, yes, they are mistress and servant, but when it's just themselves? They can just _be._ No false pretences, no strange class barriers, no expectations or pointless rules. Just two women, barely past girlhood really, crafting flower crowns under the afternoon sun, gossiping and relaxing as close friends are wont to do.

(Gwen's frequent usage of "my Lady", even when they're alone, is more a habit than a choice, but it feels harmless enough. Besides, better to use the formal title too often than it would be to slip and call her "Morgana" in front of the King, they both reckon.)

They work on adding the flowers and greenery next, and it goes much easier. Soon enough, Gwen and Morgana have two more flower crowns between them, these ones mostly decorated with buttercups and daisies, and the sun has descended a little without either of them noticing.

Suddenly, gently, Morgana takes Gwen's nearest hand in one of her own. Gwen lets her do so without resistance, though she _is_ curious as to what Morgana is doing. (She hopes, though. Oh, how she hopes.)

Morgana's hands are soft, like all noblewomen's are (though not quite as soft as most might be, thanks to her illicit swordtraining) but still firm and confident. Gwen's hands are rough with all the callouses and little scars of a life of hard work, but as Morgana raises Gwen's hand and softly presses a kiss to the back of it, as though their stations and roles are reversed, Gwen feels like her hands are the hands of a princess.

"Thank you for showing me, Gwen," Morgana says, letting go of Gwen's hand, as though nothing strange or world-upending has occurred, and Gwen lets herself wonder at that kiss, and at the fact that she can still feel the ghost of it even hours later.

*

A few days later, Gwen is quietly humming the same song again as she lights the candles in Morgana's chambers.

_It's a love song!_ Morgana realises, and only her skill at holding her composure amongst the court stops her from blurting the knowledge aloud. A love song. Fancy that. She remembers now. Recently a travelling bard of great skill had come to a feast and spun, with voice and lute, a pretty yarn of ladies and love. Morgana had enjoyed the performance well enough, but she was mostly occupied with how enraptured Gwen had looked at the tale. Gwen is so unbelievably pretty, with her rich brown skin and glossy hair and beautiful _beautiful_ eyes and the way she's somehow mastered the art of being kind whilst also being resolute. She's skilled at many arts, come to think of it. Gwen can create so many wonderful things with her hands - fine weapons, flower crowns, beautifully intricate clothing - and Morgana doesn't understand how anyone can manage to overlook her, ever.

(Morgana thinks of the steady, sure movement of Gwen's fingers weaving together the flower crowns again, and feels herself once again blushing. Morgana _wants._ She wants so very badly. And the more she thinks on the matter, the more she realises that Gwen might _want,_ too.)

"Gwen..." Morgana says, sat at her vanity in her nightclothes and combing her hair for something to do with her hands, faux-casually observing Gwen in the mirror. "You know I'd never use our respective stations against you, right?" Morgana pauses, waiting for an answer, and Gwen nods, looking at Morgana in askance over her shoulder. "So I _ask_ you this, as my oldest and dearest friend - and if you do not wish for this also, then we shall simply never speak of it again -" Morgana takes a deep breath in, "- would you ever - would-you-come-to-bed-with-me?" She asks, words all in a rush.

Gwen's breath hitches and her lips part in surprise. " _My Lady?_ " Gwen meets Morgana's gaze in the mirror, but quickly turns away. " _Morgana,_ " she whispers, sounding almost reverent. "I -" Gwen begins to ramble, cutting herself off frequently. Bursts of "wouldn't be proper -" and "you are very beautiful, but -" and "just a servant -" and "oh, it's not, it's not that I wouldn't want to - that I don't want to - I do, Morgana, I _do_ , but -" Until Gwen simply says, "We shouldn't, my Lady." She's deep in thought, frowning slightly as she continues, "It would not be proper."

"I understand," Morgana says quickly. She tries her best not to let the rejection sting, but she feels the hot prickle of embarrassment and shame across her skin nonetheless. Morgana looks away and focuses on the soothing movements of her comb, trying very hard not to let her feelings show.

Gwen turns around, the movement catching Morgana's attention. Gwen's shoulders are held high, and she sounds determined. "I said we _shouldn't,_ my Lady," and something mischievous and joyful sparks in her eyes as she smiles, "not that we _couldn't._ "

" _Oh._ "

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think? :3 I might continue this fic, if I have the spoons, but I'm currently juggling about a dozen WIPs so it's not for certain, and I think the fic as it is stands well enough on its own.
> 
> P.S.  
> If anyone happens to recognise my name from various Merlin Discord servers, please allow me to present this meme: https://i.imgur.com/XxAnAc4.jpg
> 
> [Image description: A photo of a round white cake against a white background. The cake has piped pale blue icing details around the top and bottom edges. Text edited in a plain font over the top of the cake reads, "i'm sorry i joined your discord server and now never talk i promise it's not you i just have a shitty brain and low spoons also I don't want to be annoying so instead i slowly phase into the astral plane okay i love you bye". End image description.]


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